Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter One: A Change in the Air.

Harry let out a startled yelp as his uncle grabbed him roughly by the collar of his overly large shirt. He had been working peacefully in the backyard, just like they had told him to, so he hadn't been expecting to be yanked away from his work so suddenly. His uncle half dragged him into the house and up to the front door, "Looks like you did it this time boy." Harry confusedly tried to look over his shoulder as they approached the front hallway, he didn't understand what he had done this time. "They have come to take you away, boy." He threw Harry forward and to the ground.

Harry looked up groggily and was met with the sight of two men wearing black suits. He let out muffled grunt as one of them hauled him to his feet and yanked his arms backwards, disabling him from lashing out. The other produced a vile looking tube and attached a needle onto the end. Harry felt his magic stir about him as the beginnings of panic twisted in his stomach.

The man behind him chuckled, "That won't help you now, Wizard." The title

'Wizard' was spat out like something vile had been in the man's mouth.

Harry struggled harshly against the man's grasp as the other advanced forward with the shot, now leaking liquid. He wasn't sure what was the liquid was, but, seeing as the two men knew he was a wizard, it couldn't be good. His magic lashed out as he made futile attempts to get away.

The man with the shot advanced on him, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. Harry felt the gentle pinch of the needle entering his bared forearm that the man holding him had thrust forward for the other man.

Harry thought dimly that it was ironic that his left forearm had been the place the men had chosen to give him the shot, before his world fell dark.

When Harry came to, he opened bleary eyes and sat up groggily from his curled position. He blinked owlishly and waited for his eyes to clear of the bleary sleep. They didn't. He blinked again and then realized a bit belatedly that he wasn't wearing his glasses. Harry repressed the urge to growl in annoyance and fought the jump of surprise as he felt his magic swirl about him dangerously. Deciding not to question why his magic was acting like some sort of cocoon, surrounding him from outside and responding to his will instead of channeling its self through his wand and staying locked up in his magical core, Harry channeled his magic up to his eyes. Slowly his vision cleared and he studied the area around him.

Immediately Harry noticed that he was in a cell, not that someone could call it much of a cell as it was more like a large dog cage. Glad that he had not tried standing up upon waking, Harry leaned over to the bars of the cage intent on studying what he could see of the room that he was stuck in. There were many instruments that reminded Harry vaguely of a muggle science lab. Harry tried to suppress the anger that had risen in him, he would not let his anger rule his life like in his fifth year. That had ended… disastrously. Nor could he completely suppress his anger as he had last year. That had ended… well worse than fifth year. He was now short two mentors.

Harry shook his head, not letting himself dwell on the past. He had to concentrate on what was happening right now. He gathered his magic about him. If he could correct his eyesight, then he could destroy the bars of his cage. Right as he was about to throw all of his magic at the bars, he heard a loud resounding crack from what must have been the cage next to him. Harry immediately lost his concentration and his magic drifted back to the cocooning cloud that it had been before.

He listened for a second and then heard a hiss of displeasure from the cage next to him. Harry new that whoever was next to him must have just woken up too, and considering what had happened when the muggles had taken Harry in, they must have been a wizard also. A chuckle escaped from Harry when he heard a muffled curse follow the hiss.

There was a sudden silence from the other cage and then a sharp, "Whose there?" echoed around the room.

Harry tensed up. He recognized that voice, and if he was correct it was Voldemort. There was one issue with his assumption, his voice was deeper and warmer then Harry remembered it being. Harry quickly calculated his options; Voldemort was possibly his only chance at escaping. Maybe even the only other wizard left. He didn't know the conditions of the Wizarding world now that the muggles new it existed. He let out a whooping sigh, "Who else would you be stuck next to in a cell?"

There was a shuffle of movement and then a quiet hiss of "Potter?" was breathed out before the man responded louder, "Indeed, it would be my worst enemy. How cruel of the fates." His voice was incredibly dry, like a desert, "And, Potter, I wouldn't call this a cell. It's more like a cage for an animal."

Harry felt like growling in exasperation, "I bet that must hurt your tender pride. Being caged up, no better than an animal."

He felt the stifling rise of power next to him, "Don't forget that you aren't any better off." Harry could hear the sneer in his voice.

This time Harry did growl in exasperation, "I have a better idea."

"Oh?" Sarcasm.

"Yes, instead of using all of that rouge power to threaten me, why don't you use it to get us out of here, then we can battle in a more… reasonable setting." Harry reigned in his wild magic as its attention turned to the wall separating the two of them. He saw no use of wasting his energy when he could let the perpetually angry man next to him do all the work.

"I already tried it, when I woke up. Nothing happened, except my Magic rebounding onto itself. And seeing as that was quite painful I would much rather not try it again." The man's voice had fallen flat at this statement.

Harry glanced at the innocent looking cage bars and let himself collapse back against one of the side walls in his cage, knowing that he was probably leaning on the exact same wall Voldemort was. He racked his brain, trying to puzzle out how this predicament had happened. Something finally occurred to him. "Riddle, what did you do?"

There was a stifled groan and then Voldemort responded in a voice that was too sweet to be innocent, "I have no clue what you are talking about, Harry."

Harry narrowed his eyes, his magic rising as Voldemort let his first name roll off his tongue, "That act won't work with me, Riddle."

There was a quiet huff and Harry could imagine Voldemort mock pouting, "Well, I could always hope that one day you would be fooled by my act of innocence."

Harry raised an eyebrow and calmed his shifting magic, "I doubt that day will ever come, Riddle. Now, tell me what you did."

A sigh came through the metal wall, "There is a distinct possibility that when I raided a muggle village during the first war a young boy managed to escape."

A thump resounded around the room as Harry let his head hit against the wall, "Who knew a Dark Lord could be so careless."

Voldemort must have shifted slightly from the shuffling noise that came through, "Lucius said he had it taken care of. I could feel that by the way."

Harry turned his head to the side, letting his cheek rest against the cool metal wall, "Feel what?"

"You thumping."

Harry was about to respond when one of the machines lit up and a door at the far end of the room slid open. A man walked in and Harry recognized him as the man that had given him the sedative shot. He walked up to one of the machines, that Harry vaguely recalled was a computer, and started clicking away at it.

After a good five minutes he glanced over at the cages and froze. Suddenly, a smile spread across his face and he walked swiftly over to the cages, grabbing a rolling chair and sitting down on it, drifting slightly to the side. "Well, look at who finally decided to wake up. We thought that we would have to go and round up a few more of your kind before you two finally woke up."

Harry decided not to grace the man with an answer. Neither did Voldemort, as he stayed completely silent.

"Well, aren't you two quiet. The others were much louder. Spitting in our faces about how their 'Savior' or their 'Lord' was going to come find them, and when they did we would wish we were never born. Whoever these two people are, I think we can deal with them just fine. Especially with the new technology we have created. Both of you have experienced it. A new drug that your magic can't override. Cages that keeps your magic from lashing out at us. Quite a fantastic piece of science if you ask me. Of course then we figured out a way to extract your magic and use it as a power source. Sadly it seems your magic is your life source, so we have been trying to figure out a way to extract it without killing you. That's where you two come in. Before we caged you up we brought all of your magic to the surface. We figured we could extract it that way without killing you, and then you would be able to regenerate your magic. Think of it as a magic farm. The only problem is, once your magic was brought to the surface we couldn't extract it, nor could we push it back under." He looked expectantly between the two Wizards.

"Are scientists always this talkative?" Voldemort's voice was dripping in sarcasm.

Before the man could answer, Harry piped up, "I think it's a bad guy thing. You talk a lot too when you are explaining your brilliant plan for capturing and killing me. I think it might be a power complex bad guys have."

"I prefer to think of myself as the good guy and you the bad guy, Potter." Voldemort had taken on a superior informative tone.

There was a loud bang and both Wizards directed their attention back to the muggle, "Thank you, as much as I would have enjoyed watching your lovers spat-"

Both Wizards made protesting noises along with disgusted noises.

"This infuriating boy has been a thorn in my side since he was born, and he is my mortal enemy."

"He killed my parents! Not to mention trying to kill me at any chance he can get!"

"SHUT UP!" The muggle yelled, glaring at the two, "I don't care about any sort of Wizarding issue you two have. It doesn't matter anymore. Now, as I was going to say before I was interrupted, I'm going to cut one of your vocal cords. After studying the other ones we rounded up, we found that the majority of you rely on your vocals to use your magic. I just haven't decided which one of you we are going to test this theory on."

Harry felt his eyes widen, to lose one's vocals would be to lose a great many of one's spell repertoire. Spells could be preformed non-verbally, but usually only by more powerful wizards. Even then, spells were picky and some spells would never work right without a verbal incantation.

"Ah," The muggle rolled forward, right in front of Harry's cage, "You look more mortified, guess it will be you, then." He smiled like a little spoiled child that had just gotten the most expensive thing in a store, only to break it upon finding something more interesting.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being hauled of his cage and yet again getting a sedative shot in his left forearm. The last thing he saw before his world went dark again was the red eyes Tom Riddle going wide. His last thought was wondering as to why the Dark Lord looked like his twenty year old self.

When Harry woke up again he was back in his cage. He hoped futilely that the loss of his vocals was part of a nightmare that his subconscious had created upon waking up in a strange place and in a cage no less. But, when he opened his mouth to call out to the mumbling Voldemort nothing came out, no matter how many times he forced his mouth to move and shape his tongue to shape letters. Even when he tried all the different forms of the man's name, even stooping as low as to form 'my lord' with his mouth, nothing came out. He started to feel panic curl in his stomach and lost control of the wild magic surrounding him. His magic viciously hit the walls around him, not caring as it rebounded and a steady thrumming pain settled into his head.

Slowly he calmed down and his magic settled around him like a blanket. He looked up at the ceiling of his cage fighting back tears. Tears of anger, of sorrow, of loss. He took a great sobbing breath and startled when the air caught in his throat and a noise was produced. He blinked, a small smile spreading across his face.

Voldemort decided to speak then, "Potter, are you okay? That was a quiet impressive force of magic that you were throwing against the walls."

Harry hissed back in a language that only the two of them would ever be gifted to understand. One of the only languages that didn't require the vibrations of vocal cords. The hissing air passed his lips easily, "I'm better."

There was a breathy chuckle, "It would indeed seem so. I wonder if it is possible to cast in Parseltongue. I know there is a completely different branch of magic called Parselmagic, but it is dark arts."

Harry narrowed his eyes as the muggle walked in through the door, whistling, "I don't care. I want revenge on these people." His anger rose then, tired of being repressed for so long. Finally breaking through at the loss of his vocals. "No, not people. Muggles. They must repay for what they have done. They should have never killed wizards."

Another breathy chuckle came forth and Voldemort slipped into the snake language also, "Oh, we will get vengeance, Potter. We just have to wait for the next time they decide to open one of our cages. Then we strike."

Harry glared at the muggle as he hummed a happy tune and clicked away at his computer. This muggle was completely unaware of the type of power he had just brought down upon himself. The anger and hatred of an entire species for a start. A Dark Lord and a future Light Lord were also banning together to stop this muggle and the rest like him from tearing apart what was left of the Wizarding population.

A/N: A little…. Ummmm… darker I suppose. I got the idea from BlueEyes White Dragon Sorcerer's Muggle Threat Challenge. It's something differen't from what I usually write… but I have a good feeling about it…. Maybe. Let me know and review!